Written by a Woman

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

ZAID

I decided to consider that awkward interaction with Signe at her desk a success. We chatted, she flirted like she always does, and I did my best to reciprocate professionally, without looking too eager about it.

Regardless, I learned a lot after browsing the internet for anything Signe and her romance novel related, and I learned some things from my research.

Number one, her book was categorized as “open door” and she had already posted some explicit scenes on a free website that romance readers often used. I thought about reading it, but once I realized what I was reading, it almost felt like an invasion of her privacy. So, I decided to skip the more, well, intimate scenes of what she shared with readers.

She and I just weren’t there yet.

Number two, the male lead in her story and I were very different people. Signe may have described Zayne for readers to picture me in their minds. However, our personalities were almost the opposite of each other. Zayne was confident. Flirty. Charismatic. He lit up a room with his presence.

That wasn’t me.

That was more like Signe.

Zayne may have started off shy around the love interest, but he wasn’t afraid of failure or rejection as he pursued Sydney. He was so confident that they were meant to be, that he had no problem respecting Sydney’s boundaries until she was able to come to that conclusion herself.

And that was just what I found on the infuriatingly formatted website Signe had posted on. Who knew how much more developed her characters would be now that she was pursuing traditional publishing and had an agent in the industry supporting her?

After that, I realized that if I wanted to catch the attention of someone like Signe, I needed to take a step out of my comfort zone with her. Signe was social and approachable with everyone. I hadn’t seen her not socialize with anyone in the office. It was partly why I never thought too much about gaining her attention, because she gave her attention to everyone who passed by her desk, and I didn’t want to fill my head with delusions that I might have been special.

Now I know, at least, that there is something special about me, even if it just seemed to be my physique. But I couldn’t blame Signe on that, because I hadn’t gone out of my way to always reciprocate her attempts at casual conversation, so I figured I needed to extend a type of olive branch.

One thing I did notice after Nikhil and I started talking about that night’s deployment, was how Signe immediately checked out of the conversation and focused back on her work.

I needed to get better at conversing with her, then.

Practice makes perfect , is what I told myself. I decided that while I was usually busy with meetings and putting out fires, it wouldn’t take too much effort to greet Signe every day. I wanted to get to know her better, and I wanted her to get to know me better. I wanted to start to build a friendship with her so we could both see if a step in the romantic direction seemed possible.

If I was being honest, I was putting quite a bit of hope that Signe would be interested in me romantically as well, and not just as a pretty face to write about. We had our differences, like how she was clearly an extroverted woman who enjoyed trying new things (based on what I could sus out on her social media), whereas I sometimes found myself in a rut of familiarity and routine. I didn’t mind the differences, in fact, I was in awe at how confident and social and simply warm she was. I couldn’t think of a single person in the office who might not like Signe as a person.

Whereas, I had let my stress get the best of me at some points, making some sales reps and engineers tiptoe around me for a while.

From what I have heard, and learned on her social media accounts, Signe loved trying new restaurants. Perhaps taking her to my father’s Italian restaurant for a first date wouldn’t be a bad idea, because he only had great reviews for it.

No, then my father would just embarrass me with childhood stories the whole time. That option was out.

But I was getting ahead of myself. I wasn’t sure Signe would even be willing to give me the time of day since she and I were so different.

Something that helped reassure me was that I also knew that Signe was an empathic person by nature. I had seen this empathetic side of her in action several times at the office. A while ago, Jacqueline was having a rough day because someone had unexpectedly quit without giving notice, and she was already someone everyone generally avoided interacting with because of her no-nonsense personality. Signe, however, had left her desk and went to Jacqueline’s office to see how she was doing. I only knew this because as I was passing by Jacqueline’s office on the way to Brandon’s, I could hear Signe patiently listening to all of Jacqueline’s complaints and woes, while also offering to help her out however she could. Even though Signe already had her hands full with her job.

Even though Jacqueline wasn’t well-liked around the office, Signe didn’t care.

Would she share that same attitude while seeking out romantic partners? I wasn’t sure.

Considering this gave me a little bit of hope. A little bit of motivation to push myself and maybe take a tip or two from Zayne. To be a little more confident, a little more outgoing. It was the first time in my adult life I was willing to push myself in this way for the simple possibility of being with a woman like Signe. I was willing to accept how desperate this should have made me look, but I also didn’t care.

“Knock, knock,” I heard Salma’s fake friendly voice from the doorway of my office, and I instinctively looked up at her to give her an annoyed look.

“How can I help—” My sarcastic remark died in my throat when Signe followed Salma in, holding little Zeki in her arms with the brightest grin on his face.

I had to clear my throat to control my emotions at the sight of Signe holding my nephew as if she had held him many times before. His bright blue eyes admiring her, and his cheeks that were slowly losing their baby chubbiness while rocking my sister’s dimples made something tug in my chest.

“Mom wanted me to drop these off for you,” Salma explained, holding up several small lunch-sized containers in her hands, “Mom overheard Ben say that you eat out for lunch most days, and she wanted to help you ‘not waste money’’.”

I was torn between rolling my eyes at my mother’s antics or grinning at the sight of Zeki playing with a lock of Signe’s red hair.

“The company pays for my lunches, though,” I found myself walking around the desk to take the containers of leftovers from Salma’s hands, so she wouldn’t have to balance them over her bump anymore. Once her hands were free, Salma gave me a smirk with raised eyebrows while she tucked her hair behind her ear, to let me know that she was thrilled to have officially met Signe like this.

“If you don’t eat those, I will. It all smells amazing, and I won’t snub a home-cooked meal,” Signe spoke up, adjusting Zeki on her hip. The little boy instinctively tightened his little fists on her shirt, as if he was worried for a moment that she was going to set him down.

“Even though we just met Sig-nee out front, I think Zeki wants to keep her,” Salma added, acting nonchalant about the fact that our office manager and her son were hitting it off. That didn’t surprise me. Zeki was an excellent judge of character.

I saw Signe first, though.

I was more than willing to uphold dibs against a three-year-old.

“Does he?” I raised my eyebrows at the miniaturized version of Salma with blue eyes before speaking to Signe, “And feel free to eat as much as you want. I wouldn’t want these to go bad.” Half of the time, upper management used eating out as an excuse to have meetings that we didn’t want other employees to interrupt or walk in on. Lunch was a loose term because even though food was present or we were at a nicer restaurant, work was still being conducted the entire time.

Because these lunch meetings wouldn’t come to a sudden end, I didn’t want my mother’s food to go to waste. Plus, I liked the idea of Signe enjoying the Syrian and Lebanese food my mother prepared. I liked the idea of her enjoying part of my family’s culture that way.

“I’m holding you to that,” Signe smiled up at me, and quickly lowered her gaze to Zeki as he tugged a little roughly on the lock of red hair in his fingers, “Are you going to come back and visit me soon?” She then used her free hand to tickle his tummy, making him cackle with laughter and drop her hair from his grip.

“Zeki wanted to be held as soon as we walked in,” Salma tilted her head towards me, before nodding at Signe and her son, “But I was struggling with holding the Tupperware and him, and when Sig-nee offered to hold him instead, he practically jumped in her arms.” Salma smiled at me, another secretive look I couldn’t quite understand flicking over her features.

“Ah,” I nodded as if the pieces of the puzzle were all coming together, “He’s wrapping her around his sticky little fingers.” I tilted my head down towards Salma as if we were both observing this interaction in privacy instead of a foot away from Signe.

“Yes, he is,” Signe crossed her eyes at Zeki, making him giggle as he put both of his hands on her cheeks to squish them together. Signe wasn’t fazed by his touch, instead, she just laughed and uncrossed her eyes, squeezing him to her body as they both laughed at their silliness.

Zeki then grabbed a fistful of her shirt, accidentally tugging it down as he bounced happily in her arms while shouting, “Again!”

Signe quickly captured his hand and released his grip on her shirt, keeping her cleavage properly concealed for the workplace as she crossed her eyes at him again. I found my heart rate increased the slightest bit at the creamy skin my nephew almost revealed.

Don’t obsess over a half second of the accidentally exposed cleavage, jackass .

I quickly glanced down at Salma, who gave me a suspicious look as she spoke up again, “Can I chat with you about something really quick? Are you busy?”

I was always busy, but I found myself much more agreeable in Signe’s presence, so I nodded.

“Want to go see what snacks we can find in the break room?” Signe asked Zeki with a wiggle of her eyebrows. He nodded enthusiastically, so Signe lifted her head to address his mother, “Is there anything I shouldn’t offer him?”

“Oh,” Salma tilted her head, “Do you have anything back there not safe for kids?”

Signe explained, “I wasn’t sure if there were any dietary restrictions he has, I didn’t want to accidentally offer him something you wouldn’t normally.”

Salma and I both regarded Signe for a moment, touched at Signe’s consideration. It made something in my chest ache.

Our family wasn’t practicing Muslims and didn’t uphold traditional practices like Halal. We weren’t strict with religion beyond celebrating the holidays and weddings with our extended family who were. The fact that my mother married a non-Muslim, Italian man like my father, meant that we were raised less traditionally than our great-grandparents would have probably preferred.

The only thing that stuck with us from our Arabic heritage was our lack of interest in alcohol or pork, but our parents always made us feel safe to make those choices for ourselves.

“We don’t eat pork, but I doubt any of the chips or cookies in the break room have that in them,” Salma smiled as she studied Signe.

“I’ll read the ingredients first anyway,” Signe smiled and adjusted Zeki on her hip before turning around to leave, “Let’s see who all we can say hi to on our way there.”

Zeki giggled as they walked off and out of sight.

Salma closed the door behind them and followed me to my desk, before making herself comfortable in one of the seats that faced me.

“So…that’s Sig-nee,” Salma whispered, resting her hands on the edge of my desk as if we were planning something, “And I think I’m warming up to her.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her, and turned towards my desktop, “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” I asked, not reading any of the words on my screen.

“I really was just dropping off leftovers for you, but after meeting the woman who is actively writing fanfic about you, yes, I want to talk about Sig-nee.”

“It’s Signe.”

“What?”

“Her name,” I turned to look at her, still holding the edge of my desk and whispering like we were talking about a deep dark secret, “It’s pronounced Signe . You keep saying it like ‘Sig-nee’.” I explained.

Salma blinked at me, “Pronounce it for me one more time?”

“Signe,” I repeated, “Like see-nyuh.”

“See-nyuh,” Salma replied, “Signe.”

“Right,” I nodded with a sigh before clasping my fingers together on my side of the desk and facing her, “That’s the French pronunciation, at least. I think the Norwegian pronunciation is more like ‘sing-neh’, but that’s not how she has pronounced it in the past.”

“I gotta be honest, I don’t think I care about the history of her name’s pronunciation that much,” Salma tilted her head at me, “But it is fascinating that you do.”

I lowered my brows at her, “She’s an employee. It’s not unrealistic for management to know how to correctly pronounce an employee’s name.”

“Especially if you plan on saying her name often,” Salma raised an eyebrow at me.

“It’s useful if I need to get her attention in an office with hundreds of employees, yes.” I gave her a bland look.

“Or if you plan on calling out her name in the throes of passion.”

“Sal—” I felt my ears and neck heat up, the situation my sister was hinting at both excited and humiliated me, which led me to gape at her.

“Oh my god, you do !” Salma gaped back at me in return, covering her mouth with both of her hands, “You want to sleep with Signe!” she whisper-hissed at me.

“I don’t—” I rested my elbows on the desk while scrubbing a hand down my face in frustration, “I mean, yes. But that’s not—”

“Is it just because she wrote smut about you? Because Zaid, you deserve better than that,” Salma still kept her voice low, “There are plenty of other women out there who—”

I sliced a hand through the air, groaning in irritation and cutting her off, “Stop talking. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Then tell me,” Salma held her hands up and out, clearly at a loss, “Because I don’t understand why you’re suddenly interested in one of your employees.”

“I’m not suddenly interested,” I glared at Salma, annoyed that she cornered me at work to have this conversation. My sister studied me before realization cleared her eyes and her lips parted in a small show of surprise.

“Oh,” Salma’s brow smoothed, “So…this isn’t a new thing between you two.”

“It’s not anything between us, actually,” I leaned to the side so that I could rub my forehead, struggling not to snap at my sister for not understanding what I hadn’t told her yet, “But if she finishes the book, and it becomes as successful as you and Raina think it’ll be, she can quit her job here.” I paused, giving Salma a look of what I would assume to be exhaustion, based on how I was feeling in the moment.

She pressed her lips together, and I could almost hear the wheels in her head turning as she leaned forward and said, “And…if Signe quits working here…?”

I lifted a shoulder, feeling a little ridiculous saying it out loud, “…Maybe, if she seemed interested, I could ask her to dinner without risking a meeting with Human Resources.”

My sister’s eyebrows shot up again, and a playful smile spread across her cheeks as she leaned in again, “You think Signe’s worried about HR? If that was the case, she wouldn’t be staying up at night writing what she does about you.” Then Salma’s nose wrinkled, “Which reminds me, I need to get started on my neglected Tbr to forget everything she has ever written about my baby brother.”

I had no idea what a Tbr was, but I rolled my eyes at her anyway.

“Maybe I worry about Human Resources,” I retorted. I couldn’t imagine someone like Jacqueline finding out about Signe’s story. I could see Jacqueline’s eye twitching already.

“Why don’t you just fire her?” Salma asked with a tilt of her head, staring over my shoulder in thought, “I mean, then she wouldn’t be your employee and you could ask her out.”

“I feel like no woman would want to go out with a man who fired her for the sole purpose of being able to ask her out,” I gave Salma a bored look. She nodded in agreement before I even finished my sentence, catching up with my train of thought.

“That makes sense. She has mentioned online wanting to quit her day job anyway. It should be her decision,” Salma folded her arms on the edge of my desk again.

“Plus, this job works for her,” I shrugged, “She has time to write. If she had to find another job, she may not be able to do that. I want to help her reach her goal…even if I have to pretend to not know about it for a while.” I stared at my hands as I explained it to her. Silence filled the office for a moment, except for the ticking of a small clock on the shelving unit near the loveseat. After a few moments, I lifted my gaze to stare at my sister, who wasn’t looking at me as if she was getting ready to tease me like I expected her to do.

“Zaid,” Salma sighed as if just coming to some conclusion she already knew the answer to, “This…crush you have on Signe. You’ve had it for a while?”

I felt the heat of embarrassment coat my body upon hearing her question, even though I was a grown man, and it was normal for grown men to be interested in grown women. For some reason, the way my sister asked the question made me feel more self-conscious about it than I wanted to.

I didn’t back down though.

I met her gaze and nodded my head once, confirming her theory.

“I see,” Salma inhaled a deep breath, before blowing it out dramatically through flappy lips once. She studied something over my shoulder again, letting us sit in silence for a few moments before she nodded to herself and pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked, narrowing my eyes on the sudden change of demeanor. She immediately went from relaxed and thoughtful, to sitting up straight and determined.

“I’m texting Raina,” Salma explained, ignoring the groan of protest I made in my throat, “First, to let her know that there is more to this situation than she and I realized,” Salma continued to thumb away on her phone, her eyes never leaving her screen as she spoke to me, “Second, to see if we can help you out.”

“Help me out?” I asked, sitting back in my chair, and folding my arms, “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do,” Salma gave me a look of bored disbelief before returning to her message to our sister, “You have no game. Signe’s probably used to men hitting on her left and right,” those words made my stomach churn because she was probably right, “So you need to work very carefully here.”

“I know that.” In theory, though I was still fleshing out the plan regarding how this would all work. Before Salma had shown up in my office to give me the leftovers that were currently sitting forgotten on my desk, I was simply working myself up to approach Signe more. To just chat and get to know her better.

…Perhaps I didn’t have “game” after all.

“First, she needs to see you as a friend.” Salma glanced up at the ceiling as she quirked her lips to the side and pocketed her phone, “Actually, that part probably won’t be hard. She just became best friends with my three-year-old in less than a minute. But you’re also her superior here. So that’s where we need to be careful.”

“Salma, I’m serious,” I used a tone I had used with my employees in the past, when I needed them to stop slacking, “I don’t need your help. If anything happens with Signe and me, I want it to be because she and I made it happen, not because my sisters were bored and pried.”

Salma quirked her lips to the side again in thought before replying, “Fine…but you do realize that eventually, you’ll need to tell her that you know about her book, right?”

I gulped, anxiety started to fill my chest at the realization, “Why?”

“Are you kidding?” Salma asked, “You like her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you want to date her? Not just casually, but like… date her?”

I frowned, “Yes.” It was no secret to my sisters that I never got into the casual dating scene. I either wanted a connection with someone, or I didn’t.

“Then eventually you need to tell her you know. One, because at some point it’ll be her career, and this is a very foundational piece of her career. Two, because she will probably feel weird about it and want to tell you herself to clear the air, and if you wait for her to do that before you admit that you already knew about her romance novel, I don’t know if she will appreciate that.”

I blinked, because shit, Salma had a point.

But for some reason the thought of telling Signe that I knew about the book was distressing. It was something I would need to work myself up to.

“I’m just saying,” Salma shrugged, “You don’t need to tell her right away. In fact, I’d wait a little, in case for some reason, you pursue this and find out that you two aren’t as compatible as you’d hoped. But don’t wait until her dad is walking her down the aisle towards you to tell her, either.”

I nodded and rubbed my chin in thought because that seemed reasonable. I didn’t have to tell her right away, but if things started to get serious between us, that’s when I would need to find the confidence to tell her that I knew about her side gig. Before we go on a first date, probably.

Just then, a knock sounded on my office door again, followed by Signe’s muffled voice saying, “Quick! Now we gotta hide!” over the sound of my nephew’s energetic cackle.

Salma smiled, chuckling to herself as we both stood from our desks to go answer the door. My heart was already speeding with the knowledge that I was interacting with Signe so much today. That perhaps stepping out of my comfort zone wouldn’t be as big of a step as I thought it would be.

My sister opened the door and stepped to the side, putting a hand up to her brow as if searching far and wide for her son. We could both hear Zeki’s giggles behind one of the large potted plants by my office. I also noticed how Jacqueline was peeking around her desktop to see what was going on out here with a small grin on her face.

“Come find us!” Zeki cried, followed by Signe shushing him through her own giggles.

“Where is Zeki?” Salma played along, hands on her hips as she stomped a little bit harder so her son could hear her approaching.

“Not here!” He called out, making Signe cackle at the hilarity of the toddler’s logic.

“Not…here?” Salma jumped around the potted plant, making Zeki’s laughter reach a shrill pitch as he ran out and threw himself into his mother’s waiting arms. Signe stood to her full height, smiling wide at my sister and nephew as they embraced.

While Salma played with her son and tried to calm him down enough to leave, Signe stepped closer to where I was standing, crossing her arms over her chest as she addressed me, “Your nephew is the cutest.”

“He is,” I agreed, shoving my hands in my slacks attempting to look casual in her presence.

“I want to eat him.”

I raised my eyebrows at her, a smirk tugging at the edges of my lips, “I think Salma might have an issue with that.”

Signe turned back to my sister, who was currently munching on Zeki’s chubby cheeks right where his dimple popped, and making him giggle, “…Would she?” Signe asked with a laugh and tilt of her head. I found myself staring at Signe’s ample backside for a moment, because those jeans that she wore always drew my eye there, but I quickly lifted my gaze to my sister and scolded myself for being a jackass in the workplace.

“I’m willing to share,” Salma laughed after nibbling on her son’s cheeks one last time and settling him on her hip, “If you ever want to babysit, that wouldn’t suck.”

“I would love that,” Signe responded, her eyes wide as if she genuinely would love nothing more than to babysit my nephew.

“Wait, really?” My sister got visibly excited, “That would be great! We never go out anymore because finding a babysitter is so tough.”

“I’d really love to! Here, let me give you my number,” Signe replied. Both women pulled their phones out while I frowned at my sister.

“I can babysit, too.”

“You’re too busy,” Salma shook her head at me as she thumbed Signe’s number into her device. Something darkened my mood a little at her words. She made it sound like I didn’t have time for family, which wasn’t exactly…wrong. How many times did I show up late to dinner? How many times did I blow off drinks with Ben and my father when they closed the restaurant because work got in the way?

I knew I was busy when I was a developer before I was promoted to CTO.

But I was never so busy that I couldn’t make time for family.

Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t heard anything from Brandon since I emailed him that list of possible replacements for me.

I studied Signe as she and my sister chatted some more about babysitting. Signe pocketed her phone and brushed her dark red hair behind her shoulders, going as far as to tuck some loose strands behind her ears. How confidently she became friends with both my sister and Zeki. I briefly pictured a future with Signe as part of the family, standing there in the middle of the office with them. How Signe would finish writing on her laptop at the end of the day and run over to my mother’s house to help prepare family dinner. I could see Signe chasing little Zeki around my parent’s island, giving my sister and her husband a break while they focused on fun adult tasks like cooking.

I thought about how in that scenario, I would still be arriving late to the dinner party as CTO.

I caught myself frowning and I corrected my expression before anybody noticed it.

I didn’t want to keep being too busy. I wanted to show up on time. I wanted Salma to feel comfortable asking me to babysit whenever she needed. I wanted to show up at my dad’s restaurant and grab lunch with him more often. I definitely wanted to be present at my parent’s house when dinner was being made, not just when the food had gone cold. Maybe even watch a game with Ben or introduce little Zeki to the newest superhero movies coming out. I wanted to be part of the casual dinners, especially if I was considering bringing Signe home to meet my parents.

I…needed to really think about that.

“Say goodbye to Miss Signe!” Salma cooed, making me blink out of my spiraling thoughts as Signe leaned in to squeeze Zeki before saying goodbye.

“Bye!” Zeki shyly waved after his hug and snuggled into his mom’s side before we all walked Salma and Zeki toward the elevators. Signe and I stopped next to her desk, and it wasn’t until my sister and nephew disappeared behind the closing elevator doors that Signe turned and lifted a dark red eyebrow at me.

“What?” I asked.

“She called me Signe,” she sounded accusatory, though the upturned curve of her lips let me know she wasn’t upset about it.

I nodded once, not quite following.

“When she first got here, I introduced myself,” Signe explained, tapping the employee badge she wore on her hip that had her company picture and name printed, “And even after I said my name, she called me Sig-nee.” She lifted a shoulder and she casually walked around to her seat at her desk, “Which is normal. It didn’t bother me at all, because that’s what it’s like living with a name like mine. I hardly ever correct people unless I think we are going to be seeing more of each other…” Signe sat down and grabbed the edge of her desk to pull her chair in, “But when she left your office, she called me Signe.”

I shrugged my shoulders once, “I told her she was saying your name wrong.”

“I figured,” Signe smiled, a light pink color touching her cheeks, “…Thank you.”

I attempted to look confidently casual, inspired by Zayne, “It’s your name. It should be said correctly.”

Signe stared at me, the light pink lingering on her cheeks before she gave me a shy smile and nodded, “You didn’t have to correct her, but it feels nice to know that you did.”

“Of course,” I nodded, then awkwardly jerked my head back towards my office, “I gotta get back to work.” I was nervous that, due to how rapidly my heart was beating from this one-on-one conversation I was having with her, and after being busted for teaching my sister how to say her name, that I would blurt out something else. Something like, “I love the sound of your name and it feels like a sin to let others say it incorrectly” or “Last night I had a dream that you sat on my face.”

Both of those options were mortifying, so I opted for removing myself from the situation and ending on a high note.

“Don’t forget to put your mom’s leftovers in the breakroom fridge for me,” Signe called out when I started my return. I glanced at her over my shoulder and threw her a grin, and I felt my heart thump heavy one time at the bright look in her eyes when she saw my smile.

“You got it,” I gave her a thumbs up before continuing my retreat to my office. I didn’t see anything as I made my way back, too lost in my thoughts about the realizations I had in the last few minutes since my sister let herself into my office.